


Call the Shots

by MatrixCube



Series: A new Journey [2]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Come Eating, Come as Lube, Dirty Talk, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Humor, M/M, Pushy Bottoms, Riding, Sexual Humor, Tattoos, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatrixCube/pseuds/MatrixCube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sigh drops from Mikleo’s lips, looking at the door again. It’s not locked, and he hopes that no one will come in for the next thirty minutes.</p>
<p>Mikleo puts his coat on the floor, and turns his head, meeting the Seraph’s hungry gaze. “If you think you can call the shots, you are gravely mistaken.”</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Zaveid stares him for a moment, before his face falls into something darker, a more sinister grin. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, Mikleo.”</p>
<p>(Part of a series, but can be read as a standalone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call the Shots

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be read as a standalone, even though it's the explicit version of the 'smut scene' that's hinted at in the first part of the series.
> 
> Thanks to all the wonderful people who supported my fic 'Equivalent Exchange'!

This whole situation is absurd.

Mikleo knows he should’ve avoided being alone with Zaveid, but he just got pushed into one of the rented rooms of the inn to talk.

_To talk._

As if Zaveid just wants to talk.

Yes, Mikleo is well aware of the Wind Seraph’s feelings for him; the deliberate touches and warm gazes tell him more than a cheesy one-liner.

The door falls closed behind them – putting a close to the argument they had a few minutes before the Squire came in and gave Mikleo some thread and a needle to fix up his armor.

(The Squire looked between them, knowing about the tension between them, and deliberately ignored it.)

Mikleo stares at the closed door, needle and thread in hand.

This situation is just absurd.

Apparently, Zaveid doesn’t want to pick up where they left off with their argument, which suits Mikleo just fine. The less they talk, the less he has to deal with his confusing feelings.

Mikleo sighs and sits down on the bed. His armor is torn at his shoulder, no need to buy a new one.

He shucks off his white coat with a bit of a struggle, leaving the black shirt on he’s wearing underneath. (The coat is a bit heavy, with that many layers hanging from his shoulders.)

Not sparing Zaveid a glance, he puts the thread through the lug on the first try. Well, accuracy has always been his best skill.

Maybe Zaveid will just leave him alone, sparing them an awkward conversation of anything beyond their journey and duties. But of course, it’s not as easy with Zaveid.

He can feel the bed dip behind him, but he’s too focused on pushing the needle through the fabric. For a few stitches, Zaveid says nothing, making Mikleo uneasy. Zaveid is always talking or moving, so why does he behave so odd right now?

A slight rustle of the bed sheets, and Zaveid’s voice is close to Mikleo’s ear. “Do you know that you are the first who has ever called me out on my act?”

Right, their argument earlier. It’s not that Mikleo’s never called Zaveid out on his ridiculous casanova act, or Edna, for that matter, but they mostly did it to make him stop, and not because they knew that it had actually been an act.

But how did nobody notice that so far? Sure, Zaveid isn’t someone who lets people too close, but with his fair share of lovers, he’s probably opened up to someone, no?

“Nobody buys that flirty shtick anyway,” Mikleo says, carefully threading the needle through the fabric. “Maybe people who don’t know you, but I’ve been travelling with you for quite some time now, so it’s no news to me.”

Mikleo can still feel the closeness of Zaveid’s body (which he tries so hard to ignore), and bites off the thread. He’s glad he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

Tying a small knot at the end of the thread, Mikleo wants to call it a night – but freezes up when Zaveid leans his forehead against his upper back. He can feel his warmth through his shirt.

“Maybe I just want you to see me differently,” he says, his voice warm and soft, totally different from before.

Oh no. This conversation is heading into unknown territory.

Mikleo puts down his coat, staring at his hands. Why does he want Mikleo to see him in a different light?

Actually, it’s an easy answer, but also so hard to admit: Zaveid said that he likes him.

The thought makes Mikleo nervous. “Are you sure that you like—“

Zaveid’s lips on his neck interrupt him. It’s a soft kiss, where he’s pushed away the black fabric of Mikleo’s shirt, but then his lips part, and it’s open-mouthed heat with a tongue drawing small circles up his neck. It’s a long-forgotten feeling of closeness, and Mikleo shudders at the feeling of strands of Zaveid’s hair brushing over the wet, sensitive skin.

Sucking lightly, Zaveid breathes against him, and it something flares up within Mikleo, who barely suppresses a sound. Teeth graze against the spot, and it’s hard to keep quiet.

“I’m sure, Mikleo,” Zaveid says, and the use of his name is making Mikleo’s throat dry. “But... are you?”

And he doesn’t know the answer to that. His heart’s still yearning for Sorey, every minute, but it’s not him that makes his resolve crumble and his body thrum for more.

“I... I’m still...”

Zaveid’s hums. “I know. I will never replace Sorey, and I don’t want to. I just hope that… maybe there is some room for me in here, too.”

His hand taps against Mikleo’s sternum, and the Water Seraph fears that he can feel his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest.

_Making room for him._

The thought alone makes Mikleo smile - Zaveid’s already in there, next to Lailah and Edna, Rose and Alisha, and his family from Elysia. Although, his presence is steady, not just a memory.

Someone who’s listening to his ramblings about history, and someone who knows what he needs when he’s unaware of it. Someone who will fight next to him, keeping him alive.

Mikleo values that, more than he’d ever admit.

Of course Zaveid still has secrets, he doesn’t fool himself. But... he doesn’t need to know. Zaveid already opened up to him on his own, and he will even more eventually.

Mikleo swallows, and doesn’t know if this is the right decision, but the thought is put aside when Zaveid presses a small kiss behind his ear.

“Just so you know, I won’t do anything without your permission,” Zaveid murmurs against his earlobe.

It’s enough for Mikleo’s hesitation to crumble away like a sand dune under a wave.

He can’t put all his thoughts into a few sentences, and Zaveid probably wouldn’t want to hear him rambling, either – so he decides to show him.

Shivering, Mikleo tilts his head to expose his neck, his long hair sliding off his shoulder. He can hear Zaveid’s breath hitch at the sight, and he feels... powerful.

“I could eat you up,” Zaveid murmurs, and drags his tongue over the offered expanse of milky skin.

A sigh drops from Mikleo’s lips, looking at the door again. It’s not locked, and he hopes that no one will come in for the next thirty minutes.

Mikleo puts his coat on the floor, and turns his head, meeting the Seraph’s hungry gaze. “If you think you can call the shots, you are gravely mistaken.”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Zaveid stares him for a moment, before his face falls into something darker, a more sinister grin. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, Mikleo.”

He threads a hand into Mikleo’s hair, and pulls him closer to kiss him.

The angle is slightly off, but when Zaveid nibbles at his lower lip, Mikleo enjoys it a bit too much, moaning and giving Zaveid an opening to slide his tongue in.

Oh no, this is not how this is supposed to play out. Mikleo is quick to pull back.

“What—“

But before Zaveid can ask or protest, Mikleo gets rid of his boots, and kneels down on the bed. His hands framing the Wind Seraph’s face, and kisses him with such ferocity that both of them groan into the heated kiss.

Mikleo presses against him, drawing back only to look at a slightly put out Zaveid. He probably surprised him by taking the lead – he has to take this chance.

“Just tell me when to stop,” he says, and kisses Zaveid again with tongue and teeth.

He can feel Zaveid’s hands in his hair, holding onto him, as he pushes the taller man into the mattress. (It’s not their bed, but the Squire’s – hopefully, he won’t be too mad at them.)

Zaveid growls in his throat, but doesn’t try to push Mikleo off him, no, he draws him even closer, so Mikleo is forced to straddle his waist and bend down.

“Mikleo, what—“

He doesn’t get to finish this one either. Mikleo puts a finger on his lips to quiet him. “I quite like you like this. Beneath me.” He drags his finger down Zaveid’s neck, his bobbing adam’s apple, to his necklace. “I want to ride your brains out, how does that sound?”

Zaveid groans, and his eyes flutter shut. “When did ya learn to talk dirty like that?”

A fleeting memory of Sorey underneath him, mouth agape and begging for more, crosses his mind, but Mikleo focuses on the man before him.

“This isn’t my first time, you know,” he smiles.

Zaveid plants his hands on Mikleo’s narrow hips. “Good t’know.”

Still wearing that satisfied smile, Mikleo lowers himself down, and rolls his pelvis against Zaveid’s hard-on, eliciting another groan from him.

“Already so hard for me... You really are a pervert,” Mikleo teases, and traces the white tattoo-ed lines on Zaveid’s pectoral with his finger.

Zaveid chuckles. “Who wouldn’t be with such a beauty on their— _oh fuck_ ,” he moans when Mikleo bites the soft skin next to a nipple.

“Save the cheesy lines.”

He doesn’t need any compliments or declarations of love to get hard; all he needs is _this_ – being on top of someone, being the one who makes them lose their mind.

He draws more and more needy gasps and moans from Zaveid as he bites a trail down his well-toned torso along the lines of his markings. The abused skin looks beautiful against the complexion of his own fingers.

The markings go behind Zaveid’s back, so they’re unaccessible for now, but there’s also two trails on his hip that he hasn’t explored yet. Mikleo dives down, licking the taut skin covering his protruding hip bone.

Zaveid tugs at the locks of Mikleo’s hair, and the Water Seraph can feel muscles rippling under skin as he drags his tongue lower to the hem of his pants.

“ _Mikleo—_ “

The wanton sound of his name goes straight to his cock, and damn, he enjoys the pull on his hair way too much.

“Hmm, I’ve always wondered where your tattoos actually end up,” Mikleo says against the salty skin, mouthing at it just above the beginning of Zaveid’s happy trail that disappears in his pants.

Zaveid’s chest is heaving, and there’s a slight flush on his cheeks. “Care to find out?”

“Definitely.”

Without further preamble, he opens the belt buckle and the button of his pants, noticing how Zaveid’s cock is straining against the fabric.

Sighing in relief, Zaveid unconsciously bucks his hips as his erection is free from its confinement. (That he’s not wearing anything under it, doesn’t surprise anyone.) His dick is nothing Zaveid is ashamed of, but the way Mikleo stares at it renders him uncertain.

“...You okay, Mikleo?”

The Water Seraph snaps out of his reverie, and nods. “I didn’t expect them to go this far,” he says, drawing a finger down the markings that run next to his balls to his perineum.

Zaveid makes a gutteral sound, his head jerking back. It’s already too much, and Mikleo hasn’t even touched him properly yet.

Also, he’s still wearing pants and his shirt, which is way too much in his opinion.

“You expect me to lay bare before you without gettin’ something in return?”

Mikleo looks startled for a second, then smirks. “Watch me.”

He’s done this a few times before – the first time has been awkward fumbling, and there was nothing sexy about taking off his clothes, but by now he doesn’t feel self-conscious about his body anymore. Mikleo takes the hem of his black shirt and strips it off over his head.

Zaveid’s eyes are glued to the lithe body stretching with its unblemished, perfect skin. He can’t help himself but touch the even bow of the ribcage expanding with an intake of breath.

The warm hand against his senstive side makes Mikleo shudder. “Didn’t I say to just watch?”

“’s hard not to touch,” Zaveid says, voice strained.

Mikleo huffs, leaning forward to push Zaveid’s torso back into the sheets. His ponytail spills over his shoulder.

Zaveid looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he plays with the blue tips of Mikleo’s hair. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs under his breath.

A flush creeps onto Mikleo’s face, and he can’t fight it. “You got a thing for hair?” he asks, trying to divert from any cheesy declarations.

“Naturally,” Zaveid grins. “There’s nothin’ like luscious hair to bury your hands in. Why d’you think I keep it that way?”

Mikleo chuckles. “You’re weird.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Zaveid leers. “I love it when someone pulls my hair in the heat of the moment.”

A picture of Zaveid’s blissed out face, mouth open with a silent cry on his lips, comes up in Mikleo’s mind, and he really wants to try it out.

“That can be arranged,” he says, and damn, did he just sound as ragged as he thought he did?

He tries not to dwell on it, and get back to work; his fingers pull down the zipper of his pants, and the slight pressure against his throbbing cock feels so good.

“Lemme help you.”

With another pair of hands, he gets rid of his pants and underwear as well. In the same flurry Zaveid strips off his boots and his pants that have been down to his knees.

The Wind Seraph sits up, but with Mikleo kneeling above him, he has to look up into a slightly flustered face. “Still calling the shots?”

Since Zaveid’s on the same height with his groin, he can feel his breath against his cock. “Of course, I’m not finished with you yet,” he says. “Open your mouth.”

Hesitation flickers across Zaveid’s features, but he makes up his mind and tilts his head back, opening his mouth.

The obedient sight makes Mikleo’s cock twitch, and it doesn’t unnoticed by Zaveid. Without having to say anything, Zaveid flicks his tongue over the head of Mikleo’s cock.

“ _Hnngh—_ “

Mikleo bites his lip to keep quiet, but Zaveid wants more of it, so he licks the vein on the underside of his cock, drawing a stuttering gasp from Mikleo.

He’s given blowjobs before, and he knows how to coax a partner closer to completion with minimal effort, although Zaveid wants to give Mikleo everything.

If it wasn’t for the lack of lubrication.

“Got lube with you?”

Mikleo shakes his head, a piece of his mind scolding him for being unprepared, the rest of it turned to mush at the feeling of Zaveid’s hot breath on his cock.

“All right.” Time for Plan B, then.

For all the needy sounds that spill over Mikleo’s lips, Zaveid doesn’t give him what he wants – that goddamn mouth on him – and instead does little kitten licks at the sensitive spot right under the ridge. He also brings a hand up to Mikleo’s balls, fondling them.

“Zaveid... C’mon...”

Mikleo tries his best not to rock into the touch and accidentally poking an eye out, but he wants _more_.

A finger gives him what he wants, pressing down behind his balls, and fuck, his whole body seizes up with pleasure.

Precome dribbles from his cock, only to get swiped away by Zaveid’s free hand.

“You still wanna ride me?” Zaveid asks lowly against Mikleo’s flat stomach.

What a stupid question. “ _Yes._ ”

Grinning, Zaveid slips his wet fingers between Mikleo’s cheeks, milking a desperate groan from him as he encircles the puckered skin.

“Come on,” Mikleo growls, canting his hips so Zaveid has better access.

Zaveid slowly presses one finger in, guided by the wet slide of precome. He carefully watches Mikleo’s face for discomfort, but can see none, so he works it up until the third knuckle.

“That okay?”

Mikleo keens at the familiar feeling of something inside of him – it’s been so long since he indulged in this, and yet his body still remembers everything.

Even more precome slides down his cock at the prospect of getting filled again.

“I don’t even need to stimulate your prostate, the way ya creaming yourself,” Zaveid chuckles. “You close?”

Mikleo shakes his head. “No,” he breathes, knowing it’s not enough by a long shot. “I just— It’s always like this. I... I come a lot, y’know.”

It’s a bit embarrassing admitting it. (It’s been embarrassing with Sorey, too, when there was so much precome on his stomach that Sorey thought he had come already.)

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” Zaveid groans, scooping up more of the precome, and applying it onto his hole.

A second finger slides in easily, and Mikleo relishes in the feeling of the fingers stretching him. They push in and out of him with a squelching sound that makes his head spin.

“You’re doin’ good,” Zaveid says, gathering more of the steady stream of precome, so he can add a third finger. “Opening up for me so well.”

Mikleo moans, pressing down onto the moving fingers, so they go in even deeper. “Hurry,” he wheezes, “or the others will be wondering where we are.”

Not that he minds putting on a show, but this is just between him and Zaveid.

The Wind Seraph removes his fingers, and presses am open-mouthed kiss against Mikleo’s abdomen. “You good?”

“I’d be even better if you were finally inside me,” Mikleo huffs, reaching down to take Zaveid’s red cock into his hand, so he can align himself.

Zaveid opens his mouth to say something, but stifles down a curse as Mikleo sinks down onto his cock.

He’s taking inch after inch without pausing; the steady fill is like cool water on a hot, sunny day. Mikleo releases a breath he wasn’t aware of holding when Zaveid bottoms out.

“What the hell, Mikleo,” Zaveid presses out between clenched teeth, because the body above him was so hot and _tight_.

A sheen of sweat covers Zaveid’s body, and Mikleo licks at his collarbone. “You’re nothing I can’t take.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” Zaveid chuckles. “But you’ll be screaming— _Shit!_ ”

Mikleo’s gyrated his hips, grinning at Zaveid dangerously. “You’re still not in any position to take the lead.”

Unable to give a witty comeback, Zaveid just revels in the feeling of Mikleo’s rocking hips. He never once imagined this boy being a pushy, yet fantastic lay.

They take it slow in the beginning. Mikleo rises to his knees, and sinks down again, groaning deeply at the feeling. His own cock is still dripping with precome.

“Damnit, you’re... Ugh, enjoying this way too much, huh?” Zaveid asks breathlessly, trying his hardest to stay still while Mikleo rides him agonizingly slow.

Mikleo smirks. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself, too?”

“That’s not what I, _haaah_ , what I meant...”

“You mean I enjoy having you underneath me? I have to admit, I take immense pleasure from bringing someone as cocky as you to his knees,” Mikleo purrs, his eyes twinkling with challenge.

It’s certainly a sight, the way Mikleo’s thighs strain under the increasing rhythm. The Wind Seraph bucks his hips into the tight heat, only to have Mikleo slow down to a stop.

“Nuh-uh, none of that.”

Zaveid sits up again, the movement shifting the angle, and Mikleo sighs contently. “What the hell did you do to the awkward, nerdy Mikboy from before?” he teases, and grabs Mikleo’s hips.

“You’re not the only one who has a different side to him,” Mikleo gasps, tilting his head back so Zaveid can mouth at his neck.

A breathy chuckle, and Zaveid bites at his collarbone. His fingers dig into Mikleo’s soft skin, urging him on.

The pain is barely there, but Mikleo enjoys it – he knows he will have bruises on his hips, and he will definitely prod at them when no one will be around.

“C’mon, Mikleo, _faster—_ “

Mikleo knows he’s driving Zaveid mad with his slow pace, and he knows he’s probably not far from coming, but he needs a bit more.

(He’d love to hear Zaveid beg for it, but it’s a bit too early in their relationship for that; Zaveid’s a proud man who won’t beg easily, not even for release.)

“Try to work with me here,” Mikleo says, increasing the rhythm, and puts his arms around Zaveid’s neck.

His weeping cock slaps against stomach with every thrust, painting his skin, and occasionally Zaveid’s, with sticky precome.

“ _Haaah_ , shit,” Mikleo groans into Zaveid’s neck. At this angle and position, it’s not easy for the Wind Seraph to thrust into him, but he can feel muscular thighs beneath his working.

It feels amazing, and Zaveid’s cock is going even deeper now, pressing against his prostrate – it sets his skin on fire, and throws every rational thought out of the window.

Between thrusts, Mikleo can’t help but whimper, it feels just so good; it’s been a very long time since he last been taken like this.

“Mikleo,” Zaveid moans, “ya clenching—“

“’m close,” Mikleo says, leaning his weight onto Zaveid’s shoulders.

The Wind Seraph doesn’t seem to mind, and just rocks into Mikleo’s smaller frame. “Yeah, then come for me—“

Mikleo keens high in his throat, his orgasm creeping up on him, and he unconsciously twists his fingers in Zaveid’s white hair, holding onto it for dear life.

A particular sharp thrust forces Mikleo to cry out, and tug at the strands of hair in his hands.

Unaware that he just made Zaveid lose his mind, all Mikleo can hear is his lover growling, and feel his thighs shaking beneath him.

Did Zaveid just—

The soft gasp at his ear tells him that he’s right; Zaveid just came, while Mikleo is still so frustratingly close.

“Zaveid...”

At the pathetic sound, Zaveid crushes his mouth onto his, and Mikleo knows he’s wanted, loved, and it’s enough to make him come all over himself with a muffled cry.

He paints both their bellies in come, rocking with the wave of his orgasm washing over him.

Breathing harshly, Mikleo can feel Zaveid shifting under him, and he sighs. Zaveid’s cock inside him is softening, but he still feels so _full_. It’s glorious.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kiddin’, you came a lot.”

Slowly cracking his eyes open, Mikleo looks down between them. The massive amount of come that even hit Zaveid’s chin doesn’t faze him.

“Told you so.”

Zaveid chuckles. “You okay to lift off?”

Mikleo hums, and Zaveid slipps out as he raises to his knees. He doesn’t feel sore yet, but probably in the morning.

“Wait a second, there must be a spare cloth in the drawer,” Zaveid says, leaning back to rummage through the bedside drawer.

Shuddering, Mikleo feels the come inside him leaking out, down his thighs, and he feels incredibly dirty for a moment.

“Ah, there it is.”

Zaveid has the courtesy to clean Mikleo off first, kissing globs of come away from his skin.

“...Isn’t that gross?”

“Nah,” Zaveid waves him off.

When he’s done, he uses the unstained part of the cloth to wipe down his upper body. It leaves smears behind, but Zaveid doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s quite, yet comfortable between them as Mikleo picks up his clothing, and throws black pants over to Zaveid.

There isn’t much to say, really. A short ‘thanks’ would be weird – this wasn’t a one nighter.

Was it?

Mikleo returns to the bed after he shimmied into his coat, and kisses Zaveid with a short peck on the mouth. “Thank you.”

Zaveid seems surprised. “No, I have to thank you,” he smiles. “Didn’t have good sex like this in quite the time.”

“So you were just after my backside, then?” Mikleo teases, and hopes it doesn’t come off too self-conscious.

“This was just the icing on the cake.” Zaveid tilts up Mikleo’s head with a finger on his chin, so he can’t look away. “I’m not the guy who spouts love-confessions after the first date.”

That Zaveid considered this as a date makes Mikleo laugh. Almost.

“I don’t want any declarations,” Mikleo says.

“Good, ‘cause I’m more a man of action.”

Mikleo shoots him a flat look. “Oh yeah? You sure spend ‘I love you’s like water when women are concerned.”

A familiar flicker that lights up Zaveid’s eyes catches Mikleo’s attention. He’s seen it a few times now, but—

“Jealous?”

Mikleo squints. Zaveid had the same look in his eyes when they had their argument ( _before having fantastic sex_ , his mind adds.).

_He looks at me like that when I look past his act._

This knowledge sends a thrill through him; not that Mikleo is an abuser of power, but the temptation of having sex whenever he tears down Zaveid’s walls is strong.

“No,” he says airily.

“Good, because I’m way too old to change my habits.” Zaveid stands up, stretching. “We should get back to the others – Abellius probably wants his room back.”

Mikleo feels a bit guilty at having sex on his bed, but the Squire doesn’t know, so... (Whom is he kidding. Abellius will probably know, the man is perceptive.)

A last look at Zaveid’s satisfied face tells him that he shouldn’t regret it. They had fun, and maybe it was just a bit more than that for Mikleo. No big deal.

They will work this out together.

“Yeah. Let’s head back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, but English isn't my first language.
> 
> Thank you for looking out for me, and I suppose there will be a continuation / a last part in this series for those who've supported me.


End file.
